Harry Potter and the Imaginary Complex
by El Pepe
Summary: Thirty-three year old Harry Potter has a problem. He's your average office worker. That's not his problem. He dreams of wizards. That's not his problem. He is seeing a woman. That's not his problem. No one else can see her. That's his problem. AU HP/HG


**Harry Potter and the Imaginary Complex**

Part One

**(A/N: This is a response to reptilia28's. As always, I don't own Harry Potter, because it ended HP/GW and not HP/HG like it should have. For those who thought KILL RON wasn't funny, well, this will be more "traditional" humor.)**

Thirty-three year old Harry James Potter woke up with a start, opening his eyes before quickly closing them again, feeling sick from the sunlight streaming into the room. His head pounded from the beers he had drank last night, and the odd dream where he was a wizard fighting some madman named Voldemort kept playing behind his eyelids. He slowly got up and tried to get is bearings before he stumbled to the ground. He moaned before pulling himself back up and felt his way to the medicine cabinet for some Advil.

"That's the last time I drink a case of beer." he muttered to himself before taking a few pills with water. He slowly made his way towards his living room and sat down, sighing as his head continued to pound. "What the bloody hell was with that dream…?" he muttered to himself, leaning his head back before closing his eyes. "Never again…"

"So did you really name your invisible friend Mr. Moony?"

"Yeah…Mr. Moony was my…wait, what the!?" he yelled, opening his eyes and looking across to the sofa. Sitting there was a women who looked like she wasn't much older than himself. She had beautiful brown hair that went half-way down her back, large brown eyes, and was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes roaming up and down her body before he stopped and looked her in the eyes. "How the hell did you get in here!?"

"I was in here last night, but you were too drunk to know." she said, going back to his diary. "This is cute, you also named your-"

"Okay!" he yelled, getting her to stop. "Get the fuck out of my apartment!" he yelled, grabbing her arm. He stormed over to the door and threw her out, locking it behind her. "Son of a bitch…that was-"

"Mr. Wee-Wee!" he heard her say with a laugh. He stopped and slowly turned around, his face turning red from what she had just read, seeing her still sitting where she was with his diary in her hands. "That's cute, Harry. You know, most boys would never admit that."

"How the…what the…who the…what!?" he yelled, not knowing what to ask first. He walked over to her and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her across the room and into the hallway. He walked to his neighbor and knocked on the door hard. "Mrs. Black!" he yelled, starting to pound on the door.

"What!?" she yelled, throwing it open. Harry stopped pounding on it and pulled the women he was holding onto forward, giving her a bit of a shove.

"Did you see this woman enter my apartment!?" he yelled, shoving the woman again. "She keeps getting into my apartment, and I was wondering if you knew how!"

Mrs. Black looked at him shoving air and demanding to know rather or not a woman was in his apartment and how. She knew this man was no good, and was nothing but a man who worked at the local offices, but this was something new. She leaned in forward and sniffed, smelling the beer on his breath and clothes.

Harry looked at her as she leaned back from of all things sniffing the woman before she reared back and slapped him hard across the face, missing the woman by inches. "I thought I told you Potter, don't come over here when you're drunk you stupid boy. Now you're seeing a bloody woman!" she said before slamming the door in his face.

"Not real…" he muttered, looking at the woman standing next to him, not moving an inch. "What the hell…?" he muttered again, figuring he'd pretty much say screw it and moved away, walking back to his apartment and closed the door, locking it behind him. He sat back down in his chair and sighed, hanging his head in confusion before dozing off.

A few hours later, he woke up with a start, looking around. His dreams had again been overrun with images of witches and wizards fighting at some place called "Hogwarts" which he gathered to be some school. He shook his head before getting up. He walked over towards the restroom and grabbed a towel before stepping into the restroom. He stripped from his clothes and turned on the water, getting it to a comfortable temperature before getting under the water. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, enjoying the feel of the warm water unknotting his neck. He let out a sigh and opened his eyes, only to let out a quick start before he pulled the shower curtain to cover himself.

"Mr. Wee-Wee looks like he grew up!" the same woman, now completely naked, said, looking at his crotch. Harry had a hard time trying to not look at her body, and an even harder time trying not to become aroused, something that he failed at doing by the way her eyes and smile grew. "Looks like he grew up in deed." she said, licking her lips sensually.

"Uh…" Harry said, quickly fumbling behind him, trying to turn on the cold water. He found it in decent time and turned it on, full blast, feeling the effects of the ice cold water immediately. "How in the bloody hell did you get in here!?" he yelled.

"Through the door." she said simply, getting out of the shower.

"I locked it!" he yelled as she turned her back to him and bent over at the hips to look for a towel under the sink, causing the cold water to lose its effect. Harry tried to look away, but it was pointless. His eyes were drawn towards her-

"Hey Harry, where are the towels?" she asked, looking up at him while bent over. Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times before she shrugged and stood up, grabbing his towel to wrap around herself.

He stood there under the cold jet of water, shocked. He tried to figure out how she could have gotten threw two locked doors and into the shower with him without his noticing. Everything he thought of, however, made no sense. And what his neighbor had told him (the fact that she hated him had never crossed his mind as a reason for her to lie to him) had also thrown him off. All of the infinite questions swarming around in his head, however, were pushed to side by one very important question.

"Who the bloody hell is she?" he muttered to himself.


End file.
